A Quiet Moment

Quiet,

Absolute quiet.

I can hear my own breaths and my own heart beating,

And the faraway singing of the mountains-- 

The sweetest lullaby.

 

The air is crisp,

So sharp it might shatter

With every cloudy exhale.

 

I squint to see because of the brightness

Of the sky, the unbroken snow, the blank paper in front of me.

The spruce trees are covered in blankets of white

Like elegant dancers in extravagant gowns.

 

I breathe once more and let the warm air go,

A puffy cloud that rises but does not disperse.

I can hardly move in my bulky clothes, so I sit still and wait.

What for, I don't know.

The coldness seeps in from every corner

But time seems to be standing still. 

 

Peaceful,

So peaceful,

Calm and serene.

The apricity never quite reached me

As I surveyed the winter scene.

But all at once a thought struck me

And I picked up my pen.

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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